She bites the corner of her lip, waiting for me to invite her to stay. I’m down. But meeting her less than five minutes ago and then not having to lift a finger to put that look of anticipation on her face makes for a dull chain of events.
I’m off my rocker, I know. Any other single guy in this room would give his left nut to have this girl in the palm of his hand with such little effort.
I need to get over myself. Take the gift and don’t look at the horse, or however the old saying goes. Maybe she’ll surprise me, and my senses will adjust once we’re alone.
“The guy in the room next to me snores,” I say, lowering my voice to a whisper and leaning toward her. “And I sleep with the bathroom light on. Just so you know.”
She beams, squeezing my forearm.
“I—think I’m going to stay,” she says to Amy.
An hour and two more beers later, every one of the bright overhead lights flick on. When Heston gets tired, he makes it everybody’s problem with that little party trick. The crowdchatters on their way out the door, and I take Violet’s hand, leading her toward the hallway.
“I’m just going to freshen up real quick,” she says, stopping us in front of the guest bathroom and slipping inside.
I yawn and check the time on my phone.
“North pasture at eight,” Gage says as he passes me.
“Ten-four,” I answer with a salute.
Gage lives with his fiancée, Blythe, in the big house across the ranch, but they never go home after a party. They keep their room here for times like this. Warren isn’t far behind him, headed to his room as well.
Usually, those two are attached to their girls’ hips, but Blythe and Savannah are probably asleep in the loft. They’ve been wedding planning up there in matching feather-cuffed pajamas since after dinner.
“Sensational,” Heston grumbles, slipping into his room across from mine.
Cows don’t care if it’s the weekend. Neither does Gage, who steers the ship around here. We play hard on this ranch, but Saturdays are never off-limits for work with him around—hangover or not.
The four of us are thick as thieves. Not long ago, you couldn’t tell any of us shit. We raised hell like it was our last day on earth.
I lean against the wall, letting my head fall back to look at the ceiling. Things have changed in comparison to our younger days, and I’m not sure if I like it yet. I still try to keep them on their toes, but sometimes it feels like I’m the last man standing. Heston included.
They’ve outgrown our old routines in some ways, and as much as I hate to admit it, I might be getting too old for this crap, too.
Seeing them as happy as they are . . . I can’t tell if it makes me sick to my stomach or just plain envious. They have a lot that I don’t have, but I don’t like to dwell on it.
I chuckle and shake my head at my strange string of thoughts. Who am I kidding? I’ll die the same untamed menace I am today.
I have this place. A job I love. Good friends and any girl I could want.
That’s enough for me.
The water in the bathroom finally cuts off, and Violet emerges with her tits halfway out of her shirt. I smirk, take her hand, and try to guess what color her bra is.
It’s then I decide I’m not jealous of the other guys after all. I can’t imagine doing this with the same girl every night. My way is so much more fun.
“There’s an extra pillow and clean sheets upstairs in the loft,” I say. “I think the girls have a sleepover going on up there, so they can point you in the right direction.”
Her bottom lip pouts out. She slows her walk and begins to turn away, but I pull her in front of me to spin her like we’re two-stepping instead of on our way to bang the rest of the night. My arm hooks around her waist to stop her twirling momentum, and she crashes into my chest. I push her backward until her ass bumps against the wall, and then waste no time covering the side of her neck with my mouth.
“Gotcha.”
“Devil,” she giggles. A second later, she’s gasping and squeezing my shirt in her fists as I kiss a trail up her soft skin.
“Last door on the left,” I say in a low voice against her ear.
She instantly wiggles out of my arms and darts down the hall. I follow, undoing the top buttons of my shirt on the way. When she stops in front of the door I directed her to and tries to open it, her brows draw together.
